In a Pinch
by Mayle
Summary: In a world without Voldemort, 17-year-old Harry Potter's biggest rival is Draco Malfoy. After running away from "home" he bumps into the other boy and is shocked to find him almost kind to him in his predicament. Perhaps it's all a show and Malfoy has devious tricks up his sleeves or perhaps it's a show of good faith in hopes a friendship will come of it.
1. Chapter 1

"Potter?" a voice like silk called out.

Harry turned to see his rival, Draco Malfoy, staring at him with his eyebrows somewhere near the sun.

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy inquired, "I thought you lived with muggles?"

"I ran away, Malfoy," Harry spat at him, "Because my guardians are pricks like you."

"I'm not a prick, Potter," Malfoy huffed, "I'm rude. There's a huge difference."

"Yeah, whatever," Harry retorted, rolling his eyes, "I have nowhere to go, so I have other things to worry about other than whether you're a prick or just rude."

Harry turned to leave, rather frustrated that he had to run into Malfoy of all people.

"Stay with me," Malfoy blurted out.

Harry spun back around to face the blonde in confusion.

"What did you say?" he demanded.

"Oh, please, Potter," Malfoy rolled his eyes, "Don't play stupid. It's not a good look on you. I said stay with me. I'm staying here at the Leaky Cauldron. Since you have no place to go, you can room with me until the school term starts."

"Are you joking?" Harry said, his eyebrows checking out the view from the moon.

"I rarely joke, Potter," Malfoy said dryly, "Now come."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Malfoy whirled away before he could say anything. He debated just turning the other direction and walking away. He looked around briefly before following the Slytherin to his room. A flight of stairs and stretch of hallway later, Harry stood to the side as Malfoy unlocked the door to his room. He pushed it open and waved Harry into the room.

Harry looked around with wide eyes, dragging his trunk behind him. The room was very large, filled with simple, but somehow elegant furniture. There was a large king sized bed at one end and a fireplace on the other. In front of the fireplace sat a sofa and two armchairs, their cushions a matching deep plum color. The sheets on the bed and the heavy curtains on the two long, thin windows, matched the plum of the chairs. Harry stood there staring around at all the furniture, noticing a few small tables, one by the bed and one near the window, while a low coffee table occupied the space in front of the sofa. Harry just looked over to a corner to notice a door when Malfoy bumped him with his shoulder.

"Why don't you put your trunk down?" he suggested, gesturing toward the foot of the bed, "Go ahead and get out your bedclothes. You can take a shower if you want. Or just go to sleep. I imagine you're tired."

"Sure," Harry answered, "But why are you being so nice to me?"

Malfoy turned from Harry and walked toward the window, pulling back the curtain and looking out.

"Perhaps I believe we've been feuding for too long," he proposed, "Perhaps I would like to extend my hand in friendship once more."

"Or perhaps you have some diabolical scheme," Harry said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

"I assure you that is not the case," Malfoy answered curtly, "I'm very tired of this feud, Potter. I have little patience for it."

"Fine," Harry sighed, "Then I say we can be friends."

Malfoy whirled around to face him, his silver robes twirling.

"Finally, after almost six years, you accept," Malfoy said smugly, making sure to add his signature smirk, "I'm so very glad."

"Great," Harry said, unable to muster any witty retort, "I really want to sleep now, if you don't mind."

"Go ahead through that door and change then," Malfoy nodded toward the door in the corner.

Harry crouched down and opened his trunk, pulling out his pajamas and carrying them to the door. He opened it to a bathroom that was a decent size and incredibly clean. Unsure of how to turn a light on, he grabbed his wand and whispered "lumos!" he changed to the light of his wand into the overlarge sweater and sweatpants that were once Dudley's. He tried to think of how many clothes he owned that were actually his. He sighed when his mind could think of none.

He quickly picked up all his clothes and whispered "Nox!" before opening the door and hurrying back over to his trunk. He crammed his clothes back in and closed the lid. He decided to keep his wand in the waistband of his trousers (just in case). He looked up at the ceiling, suddenly wondering where the light was coming from. He saw three small, dull yellow orbs hovering in the air far above his head. They looked like the flames from candles, only without the candle. Harry stared up at them in wonder.

"I love magic," he whispered.

"They're wonderful, aren't they?" Malfoy's silvery voice whispered back to him.

Harry looked back down to see that Malfoy now stood next to him, staring up at the golden orbs. Harry quirked an eyebrow, but looked back up at the orbs as well.

"How do you make them?" he questioned, in a low voice.

"I don't know," Malfoy admitted, shrugging his shoulders, "I don't make them. They're just here when I show up."

"Amazing," Harry whispered, as though the little balls of light created themselves.

He stood there for several moments, unwilling to turn away. Finally he forced his eyes back down and walked to the sofa. He pressed his hand into it and loved how it sunk into the soft cushion. He smiled slightly and started to lay down when Malfoy's voice suddenly broke through his ears.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Going to sleep," Harry answered innocently, "I said I was a minute ago."

"Get in the bed," Malfoy instructed, "It's plenty big enough for both of us."

Harry twisted his hands together nervously. He walked hesitantly over to the bed, looking back at Malfoy who waved him on. He reached the bed and pressed his hand into the mattress. He purred at the softness under his fingers. He quelled the sound and blushed looking back at Malfoy who only raised an eyebrow at him. Harry tugged on the covers and crawled into the bed. He sunk into it, making the most embarrassing noises he could possibly make.

"Glasses," Malfoy reminded him.

Harry pulled them from his face and folded them, placing them delicately on the table before relaxing against the mattress. He sleepily pulled on the covers, trying to bring them up to his chin. He felt them give way suddenly and be pulled up. He looked up to see the hazy figure of Malfoy leaning over him.

"Aren't you going to bed?" Harry muttered.

"Yes, soon I will," Malfoy answered in a sweet voice, "Don't worry about me. Just go to sleep, Harry."

"'Kay," Harry mumbled groggily.

It was barely two beats of his heart and he was asleep. He was deep in sleep. The best sleep he'd ever had. In the morning he'd worry about why Malfoy was being so nice, but for now he would sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

As Harry awoke, he had a brief moment of serenity before he panicked. He was suddenly flailing about, trying to figure out where he was. He couldn't see which didn't help his predicament. He wildly groped about for his glasses as he heard a groan behind him. He froze and turned to see a blonde head lying on the pillow next to him, he couldn't make out the face, but he knew that blonde hair anywhere. The events from last night came flooding back to him and he relaxed slightly, reaching for his glasses (now that he knew where they were at).

"Potter, quit acting like an idiot," Malfoy grumbled, "This is a horrible way to wake up."

"Sorry, I panicked for a bit," Harry muttered, looking over at the face of a half-asleep Malfoy, "Do you know what time it is?"

"Cast a tempus, dummy," Malfoy grumbled.

"Oh, right," Harry nodded, before casting the charm, "It's 8:43am. Don't you think we should get up now?"

"Why?" Malfoy questioned, "There's nothing to do."

"Oh, right…" Harry trailed off as he watched Malfoy's sleeping face.

He always thought that Malfoy had a pointy face, but as he looked at the sleeping version of the face, he thought it looked rather…soft. He surprised himself at the observation and blushed horribly. He continued watching the other boy trying to sleep for quite a while. He convinced himself it was because he was bored and had nothing else to do. He settled down on his side, facing Malfoy, staring wide-eyed at his face. Several moments passed and he blinked, when his eyes opened back up he saw Malfoy looking at him. He jumped slightly and blushed.

"Why are you watching me sleep?" Malfoy demanded.

"Boredom," Harry answered.

"Alright, fine," Malfoy grumbled (again) as he lifted himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, "We'll get up, you annoying bastard."

Harry eagerly slipped down from the bed. The wood floor was rather cold and he hissed slightly when his feet touched it. Harry watched as Malfoy moved to a large chest and opened the drawers, pulling out clothes. Harry tried not to note that Malfoy's underwear was green, but he epically failed. Malfoy turned to him and frowned deeply.

"I'm taking a shower," he stated, "You can sit and wait. Got it?"

"Um, yeah," Harry replied awkwardly, "I have to pee though. Er. Can I pee before you shower?"

"Obviously I wouldn't deny you the right to take a piss, idiot," Malfoy growled at him, "Now hurry up!"

Harry hurried into the bathroom. He tried to squash the blissful sigh that always came when he peed in the morning, but was unable to. He blushed, hoping Malfoy hadn't heard that. He washed and left the room, hurrying to get out of the way. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him.

"What the hell were you doing in there?" he demanded, "Never mind. I don't want to know."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Malfoy hurried into the bathroom. Harry scowled at the closed down and shuffled over to one of the armchairs. He curled up on it, thinking of the armchairs in the Gryffindor common room. He made sure to dig his feet into the cushion, knowing that would annoy the crap out of Malfoy. He heard the water start and tried not to think about how Malfoy was in there naked. He blushed again and rolled his eyes at himself. _Just because he's a guy, doesn't mean you have to find him attractive, _he berated himself. He wondered briefly if he should tell Malfoy he was gay and give him a chance to kick him out of the room.

Harry crushed the thought, knowing he really didn't have any place to stay. He considered trying to contact Ron, but he'd let Hedwig out only a few minutes before he ran away. He didn't know how else to get a letter to anyone. He wasn't any good at figuring things out. That's why he needed Ron and Hermione with him all the time. He sighed heavily and leaned his head against the back of the chair. He was deep in thoughts of what had happened yesterday when something poked him in the side. He let out an undignified yelp and jumped violently. He looked over to see Malfoy smirking at him.

"What?" he demanded.

"I'm done," Malfoy stated, "You're turn. I won't be walking around in public with someone who smells."

"I don't smell," Harry huffed.

He stood and walked over to his trunk, to find a decent set of clothes.

"Oh, and find something that is actually decent to wear, Potter," Malfoy drawled.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Harry snapped, "They look fine!"

Malfoy snorted and looked down at the sleeves of Harry's sweater that fell past his hands and the baggy sweatpants that bunched around his ankles. Harry sighed in defeat and dug around in his trunk. He pulled out his most decent pair of jeans and t-shirt. Then he found the best of his underwear (not for Malfoy's sake, but his own) and scurried into the bathroom.

As Harry stepped in he noticed there was one of the little orbs of light, lighting up the room. It smelled musky and wet as it always did in a bathroom after someone had showered. He hung his clothes on the towel rack closet to the shower. He turned on the water, testing that it was warm and jumped in. his shoulders drooped and relaxed under the warm stream of water. He stood almost completely still for a moment, happily taking in the wonderful relaxation.

"Potter!"

"Gah!" Harry screeched as he jumped nearly a foot in the air.

He slipped and almost fell, before catching himself. He pulled back the curtain and poked his head out to glare at Malfoy.

"What the fuck do you want?" he demanded.

"Don't use too much of my shampoo," Malfoy stated, "or I will murder you in your sleep."

"I'll just use the soap if you're so worried about it!" Harry grumbled.

"No! Then your hair will look all gross," Malfoy said in disgust, wrinkling his nose for effect, "Here, I will show you how much you can use."

Malfoy strode forward and flipped off the water. He pulled back the curtain and reached around Harry. Harry was frozen with shock and embarrassment. Malfoy plucked up the bottle of shampoo and grabbed one of Harry's hands. He tipped the bottle and poured a small amount of shampoo in Harry's quivering palm. He flipped the bottle upright again, reaching around Harry to place it back where it was. Harry felt a ghost of a breath on his right thigh and he gasped as electricity shot through him. Malfoy straightened out and quirked an eyebrow at Harry.

"Don't waste it," he gestured at Harry's hand, "Are you ok?"

"Fine," Harry muttered, "I'm fine. Go away."

He closed the curtain in front of Malfoy's bemused and smirking face and turned the water back on. He scowled deeply as he scrubbed the shampoo into his hair. _Who does that? Who just comes in while someone's showering like that? What a weirdo. Probably just messing with me. Or maybe he was actually concerned about the shampoo. Sounds like a Malfoy thing to do, _he thought as he rinsed the shampoo from his hair. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. It was going to be a long time before term started.

* * *

**Little note: Hello dearies! So glad to hear from you all already! Very excited that there have been reviews and follows so quick! Hope you all enjoyed the second installment! Thanks so much for your support! Love you all!**


	3. Chapter 3

Harry stared into the mirror as he dried his messy hair. He scowled at his pale face and the thin scar on his forehead. He hated the scar. It symbolized the night his parents died and it was ugly. Or at least that's what everyone kept telling him. He'd effectively destroyed the dark wizard that had killed his parents, even though he didn't even remember anything about the night. Dumbledore had told him something about his parent's love for him. He hated thinking about it, but every time he looked in the mirror, he did.

"Potter!" Malfoy's voice caused him to jump out of his skin (and thankfully, his thoughts), "Why are you just gawking at yourself?"

Harry turned his head to look at Malfoy, who'd just opened the door.

"Sorry, I was just thinking," Harry answered.

He rubbed his hair some more with the towel, finishing drying it. He looked around briefly, unsure of where to put the towel now that he was done with it.

"Just throw it on the floor," Malfoy instructed, "The maids come in and take them while I'm out. You can leave your clothes as well. They clean them and return them, so don't worry about it."

"Ok," Harry replied.

He paused a moment before gently laying the towel next to his clothes. Malfoy snorted behind him and he twirled around to glare at him. Malfoy rolled his eyes and ducked out of the bathroom.

"Hurry up, dum-dum," Malfoy called, "I have things to do and I don't trust you in my room alone!"

Harry rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at the doorway. _For god's sake, Harry, you're 17. Don't act like a child! You shouldn't succumb to his level, _he scolded himself. He sighed and headed out the door to find his shoes. He spotted them near his trunk and grinned. _Wait a minute! Those are mine! They actually bought those for me! I do have something that was mine first, _he reminded himself cheerfully. He pulled them on and tied the laces, grinning broadly the entire time.

"Why are you so happy?" Malfoy's voice questioned from somewhere nearby.

Harry looked up to see that Malfoy stood in in front of him, looking down at him with a frown.

"Because these shoes aren't second hand," he said brightly, "These are all mine!"

"I don't understand," Malfoy said confusion clear in his voice and face.

"All the clothes I own once belonged to someone else," Harry explained, "Except these shoes. Aunt Petunia took me out to buy these shoes. They're all mine."

"They never bought you clothes?" Malfoy inquired.

"No, they always gave me Dudley's old clothes," Harry answered as he finished tying his shoe, "And some charity clothes now and then. Except these shoes."

He stood and smiled proudly down at his shoes. He looked up to see Malfoy's eyebrows knitted together. He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.

"I guess I can't expect you to understand," he muttered, "The only things I've ever got that were all new and just for me, were my school things. So I guess Hogwarts really was more than just school to me."

He realized he was spilling his heart out to Malfoy, of all people and quickly snapped his mouth shut. He blushed and turned away.

"It's ok," Malfoy mumbled, "You can tell me things. We're friends now."

"Yeah, whatever," Harry murmured.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment and then Malfoy spun on his heel and marched to the door.

"Let's go," he threw back over his shoulder, "I'm hungry, Potter, and I am inconsolable when my stomach is empty."

Harry scurried after him, unwilling to deal with an upset Malfoy. Malfoy led him down to the bar area and sat at a table in the corner. Harry noted that there were only two chairs and they were side-by-side, rather close. He tried to ignore the obvious fact that Malfoy had picked a lover's table. He slid into his seat and scooted it away from Malfoy (not that a few centimeter made any difference).

"What can I get ya'll?" a snappy female voice drifted into Harry's distracted mind.

He looked up to see a witch with long, beautiful mahogany colored hair looking at Malfoy expectantly. Malfoy said something to her and she grinned at him. He turned his attention to Harry who stared at him dumbly.

"Harry?" Malfoy's voice called, "Are you ok?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond when suddenly a hand was gripping his thigh. He froze, all thought abandoned. He shook his head, trying to clear away the ringing noise that sounded through it. His mind went fuzzy and he squinted, trying to see. He heard his name, but it was muffled, like he was hearing it through water. Then suddenly everything snapped back into place and he blinked several times.

"Sorry, what?" he asked, breathlessly.

Malfoy frowned a bit, but turned to the waitress instead. His hand retracted with the turn. Harry sighed at the loss, but mentally beat himself up for it.

"Just some eggs and toast for him," Malfoy told the witch, "He's not feeling the greatest, so keep the portions small, please."

Harry watched as the witch smiled sympathetically and turned to leave and Malfoy watching her walk away. _He's watching her ass! Fucking twat! Don't watch her ass! That whore. Who the fuck does she think she is?! Wait. Why the hell do I care? Oh my god, it's not like I like him or he likes me! Mother of god, he isn't even gay! _Harry's thoughts ran rampant in his head and he felt the beginnings of a headache begin to form. He rubbed at his face, trying to clear the thoughts away.

"Are you ok?" malfoy's voice pulled him from his whirlwind of thoughts.

"Yes, goddammit! I'm fine!" Harry snarled, "Quit fucking asking me like you give a shit!"

"I thought we were friends now!" Malfoy growled back at him, "I'm just trying to be a fucking friend! See if I'm ever nice to you again, you prick!"

Harry sighed heavily, wanting to bawl his eyes out. He suppressed the urge to crumple right there and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," he muttered, "I'm just not used to people caring. Especially not you. Thank you for caring. I'm just a little strung out right now. I'll try to chill out."

"It's ok," Malfoy said softly, "You can just talk to me, if you want…and it's Draco."

"What's Draco?" Harry asked in confusion.

"My name, dummy," Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Oh, right…Draco," Harry tested the name.

He liked the way the unusual name tasted on his tongue and the way his lips moved to form the words. Malfoy-_Draco _watched him closely. Harry turned to him and smiled.

"I like it," he decided out loud, "And I'm Harry."

"Good job for remembering your own name," Draco answered sarcastically, "I've called you Harry a few times now."

Harry decided he liked Draco saying his name more than he liked saying Draco's name.

"Oh, right," Harry muttered awkwardly.

Suddenly the witch appeared in front of them with two steaming plates of food. She set them down in front of them and flashed them a smile before heading off to wherever she came from. Harry looked down at his plate miserably. The food on it made him want to puke. It looked decent enough, but for some reason the idea of eating turned his stomach. He chose, instead, to watch Draco eat out of the corner of his eye. He sighed heavily, knowing there had to be something wrong with him.

* * *

**Little note: Hi dears. I'm so tired. The ending of this chapter might be bad, because I'm exhausted. Thanks for reviews and follows and favorites. Not sure if anyone favorited though...anyway. love you all!**


	4. Chapter 4

"Harry, are you going to eat?" Draco questioned him.

"No," Harry muttered, "I'll just throw it up."

"Ok, that's fine," Draco answered, "You don't have to eat it."

"I know I don't!" Harry snapped at him, his shoulders drooped, "Sorry. Sorry. I'm really tense right now."

"Harry, what happened at your aunt and uncle's?" Draco asked.

Harry's shoulders shot back up to his ears and he hunched defensively. He heard Draco sigh next to him. He rubbed his face rigorously and forced himself to relax.

"Sorry," he muttered, "I came out to them."

He heard a fork clatter against a plate and he jerked his head to look at Draco who was gaping at him.

"You're gay?" he asked skeptically.

"Yeah," Harry murmured, "They didn't like it too much. Uncle Vernon was determined he had to beat it out of me. What happened was, I was in my room and I decided I really should tell them. So many people told me how liberating it was to come out to your family. So I was about to go down, but Hedwig got restless and I let her out. I went down, unsure of what to expect. I kind of thought they'd kick me out, so I got my trunk ready. I was totally unprepared for him to fly at me like he did. I had my wand luckily so I threatened him and he backed off. I grabbed my trunk and ran for it. I didn't even grab Hedwig's cage. I have no idea where she is!"

Harry ended rather breathlessly, tears stinging in his eyes. He felt a hand grip his shoulder and he looked over to see Draco looking at him with concern. He looked away, blushing and rubbing at his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," Harry muttered.

"It's ok," Draco assured him, "Anyone would feel overwhelmed after something like that."

"Why are you being so understanding?" Harry questioned, "I thought you hated me. But now suddenly we're friends."

"I thought_ you_ hated _me_," Draco said in reply, "All those years ago, you rejected me. I thought maybe this was my chance to show you what you'd given up."

"Oh," Harry stated lamely.

"Yeah," Draco said awkwardly, "Now, if you're done, I'm going to eat my pancakes."

Harry giggled at that before blushing and turning back to his own plate. He still wasn't feeling up to eating so he just waited for Draco to finish. He was relieved when the waitress finally came and took their plates away. Harry slid out of his seat and waited for Draco as he pulled out two galleons and laid them on the table. Draco stood and stretched, yawning widely as he did it.

"Tired?" Harry asked in an amused voice.

"Yes, some twat made me get out of bed super early for no reason," Draco quipped.

Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco, complete with a soft "nyehh!" sound. Draco rolled his eyes, but Harry saw a tiny quirk in his lips. He grinned widely at the knowledge that he'd almost made Draco smile. Draco led him through the pub and into the back where the entrance to Diagon Alley was. Draco pulled his wand from the depths of his robes (Harry had no idea where that wand had been) and briskly tapped the correct bricks. Harry watched as Draco stuffed his wand back in his robes and took notice that today he was wearing robes that were midnight blue in color.

"Do you like them?" Draco's voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts.

"What?" Harry said rather stupidly.

"Do you like my robes?" Draco clarified.

"They are very nice," Harry answered, "For you anyway. I don't think I'd look good in them. I just wear normal muggle clothes and it suits me, I guess."

"Magical people don't all wear robes," Draco said, "I just like them. I think they make me look nice. Don't you?"

"Yes, they do," Harry agreed.

Half of Draco's mouth twitched up in a small half-smile. Then he turned back to the wall, which was now an archway. He strode forward confidently into the rather empty street. There were very few people milling about, much to Harry's surprise. He was used to Diagon Alley being filled with people, so many people you could hardly move. Draco was several steps ahead of him and he tried to keep up. Apparently, Draco liked to walk fast and didn't care whether or not someone was with him. Draco made some turns until finally stopping outside of a store. He looked behind him to see Harry was there and then pushed the door open.

"Wow!" Harry gasped, "This place is huge!"

Harry stared all around him at the dozens and dozens of shelves and racks filled with clothing. Draco smirked at him and led him through the clothes. Harry followed, amazed at the assortment of clothing. There were robes hanging from racks and t-shirts sitting on shelves. He saw a vast assortment of shoes in one corner of the room and an amazing amount of hats in another corner. He was barely conscious of where they were going as he stared in wonder all around him.

"Right, you stay here," Draco commanded.

Harry abruptly stopped, suddenly aware that Draco was in front of him holding several items of clothing. He also then realized that Draco was also pointing at a chair. Harry looked confused for a moment and then it hit him that Draco wanted to try on clothes and he didn't want Harry wandering around like a dunderhead. Harry sat in the provided chair and Draco turned and walked into a doorway that was in front of the chair. Harry noticed there were five other doorways and acknowledged that these were changing rooms. Harry tilted his head back staring at the ceiling. _Is this what guys feel like when their girlfriends go and try on clothes? _He wondered briefly.

"What do you think?" Draco's voice pulled his head back to its proper position.

Draco stood before him wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans. _Damn, he even makes that look good! _Harry thought miserably. Draco twirled around his arms outstretched showing off all sides of him. Harry noted the nicely tight way the jeans hugged Draco's arse. Harry sighed and nodded.

"It looks really good," Harry admitted.

"You like it?" Draco probed.

"Yeah," Harry shrugged, "Looks more like something I'd wear though."

Draco smiled slightly and then disappeared behind into the changing room once more. Harry resumed his staring at the ceiling for a few more moments until he was once again interrupted.

"What do you think?" Draco questioned again.

Harry looked back down to see Draco wearing a pair of tight black skinny jeans and the same black shirt. Harry inwardly groaned, _he has got to be doing this on purpose. _The black clothes contrasted beautifully with Draco's pale skin and white-blonde hair. Harry scowled.

"It's good," Harry grumbled, "It looks great on you."

With that, Draco spun around and disappeared into the room again. Harry didn't bother to tilt his head back this time; sure that Draco would reappear with different clothes. _He takes pleasure in torturing me. The guy looks great in anything! He could wear my clothes and look great! _Harry thought gloomily. He was correct, of course, as Draco appeared again wearing a maroon t-shirt and a light blue pair of jeans. Harry wrinkled his nose slightly.

"You don't like it?" Draco questioned.

"I don't like maroon," Harry answered, "Ron's mom used to always knit him these god awful maroon sweaters. Kinda turned me off to the color."

"I see," Draco stated, "But the jeans are fine, right?"

"Yes," Harry answered.

Draco then disappeared again. He reappeared several times, each time sporting a different article of clothing. Harry commented truthfully on each article, wishing this torture would be over soon. One shirt that Draco came out wearing, Harry absolutely adored. It was a long sleeve shirt with wide white and dark blue stripes. The sleeves hung to the end of his palm and the hem covered his belt loops. Harry loved it and made it clear that he did. He was shocked when Draco grinned widely at him and happily bounced back into the changing room. Harry shrugged his shoulders and waited for the next bit of clothing to judge.

When Draco reemerged he was wearing his own clothes and carrying a decent pile of clothing with the striped shirt on top. Draco jerked his head for Harry to follow him and started toward the checkout. He dumped the clothing on the counter and pulled out some of the shirts and pants, instructing the witch to put them back where they belonged. Soon the rest of the clothing was in three separate bags and Draco was gesturing for Harry to follow him out of the store. Harry followed him and knitted his eyebrows in confusion as Draco stopped and turned to him. _What's he doing? _He wondered curiously.

* * *

**Little note: I KNOW! Bit of a cliffhanger there. The chapters keep getting bigger, so I have to cut it off! I'm trying to keep them similar in size. I'll update ASAP, I promise! Thanks for all the support! LOVE YOU ALL!**


	5. Chapter 5

Draco thrust his arms out at Harry. He turned his head away and blushed deeply. Harry stared in confusion for several moments.

"You want me to carry the bags?" Harry questioned.

"They're yours, so yes," Draco muttered.

"Mine?" Harry's eyebrows came together and stared in confusion.

The blush on Draco's face deepened and he sheepishly looked at Harry.

"I bought them for you," he finally managed to murmur.

Harry's face cleared in realization and then quickly brightened in happiness. He grinned widely and leapt forward, flinging his arms around Draco's neck. He felt tears stinging in his eyes.

"Oh, Draco!" Harry cried, "Thank you so much! You're so sweet! You're so amazing!"

* * *

Draco stood frozen and speechless as compliments and endearments tumbled out of Harry's mouth. He'd been so embarrassed to give the clothes, but he'd felt like if he wanted to make Harry happy that was the best way. His voice had been so sad when he'd talked about not owning very many clothes that were his own. It'd made Draco's heart wrench in a way that he hated, but loved all at the same time.

He had to say he was pretty satisfied by the result of giving the gift to Harry. He was uncertain if Harry would accept the gift, but judging by the rambling and hugging, he was going to take it. Draco wrapped his arms around the gratefully babbling boy. He felt a shock go through him. He loved the feeling of hugging Harry and it was scary and lovely and wrong and right all at the same time.

"You're welcome," he whispered in Harry's ear.

He shivered as Harry's lips brushed his skin as the guy continued to babble thanks and tell Draco how wonderful he was (like Draco didn't know). _Quit, Draco, just because he's gay doesn't mean you automatically have to like him! It also doesn't mean that he automatically will like you! He's attractive, loyal, brave, and sweet. He's a Gryffindor! Gryffindors are mortal enemies of Slytherins. It's not like that's just going to change because you find him attractive! Calm yourself, dummy, _his inner voice growled at him.

"Harry!" Draco said firmly, "You are quite welcome. Now let me go."

Harry let go of Draco like he was on fire and stumbled backward.

"S-sorry, I'm so emotional r-right now," Harry sputtered.

"It's ok," Draco assured him, though he lamented the loss of Harry's warmth.

Harry took the bags from him, his fingers brushing against Draco's hands. Draco frowned at himself for noticing the small, feathery touches. He blushed furiously and turned to start walking toward the next destination. Harry walked beside him, with a huge grin on his face (which Draco did NOT notice out of the corner of his eye, at all). He strode confidently toward his favorite store in Diagon Alley.

"Are you a virgin?" Harry asked, rather breathless from keeping up with Draco's quick strides.

Draco tripped a bit and choked slightly.

"What?! No! Why would you ask that?!" Draco sputtered in outrage.

"S-s-sorry," Harry stuttered in a meek voice, "You were just so red after we hugged. I thought maybe you weren't used to the contact. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

"It's ok," Draco answered calmly, "I'm sorry. It just surprised me."

Harry nodded, but didn't say anything else. Draco rolled his eyes and refused to acknowledge the blush creeping up on his face. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why does it matter that he asked you that? Quit acting like an idiot!_ His inner voice was being very rude today…

* * *

Harry barely kept up with Draco's swift confidant strides. He was beginning to wonder where the fire was. He could see that Draco was still blushing from the questioned he asked and it made him grin. It was calming to see he wasn't the only person that was uncomfortable. Draco halted outside a store with all sorts of ingredients for potion making. Harry felt his stomach tense up. He definitely didn't want to be around potion making things. He was god-awful at it and all it brought to him was bad memories of Snape tormenting him in front of Potions class. Draco entered the store and Harry followed hesitantly.

The pungent odor that hit his nose had him staggering and his eyes watering for several moments. Once his senses got used to it (sort of) he looked around to locate Draco. He finally spotted him in the corner of the small shop, reaching up to a high shelf trying to grab something. Harry hurried over to him, not wanting to be alone in the shop.

"Can you reach it?" Harry asked in a tight voice, trying to keep his mouth as closed as possible from the spicy fumes in the air.

"Yes, it's just barely," Draco's voice was strained as he stretched to reach the object.

Harry could see that Draco's fingertips were just in front of a small box.

"I think my arms are longer," Harry stated, "Let me get it."

Draco scowled at him but pulled away to give Harry room to get at the shelf. Harry sat the bags down, out of the way so he could stand on tip-toe to reach the box. Harry stretched up, his fingers barely reaching the edge of the box, and tugged it from the shelf. He was so satisfied with himself that he excitedly stumbled back and fell onto his arse. He heard Draco snicker slightly before looking down at him in concern. Harry held up the box to Draco who reached down and took it. Harry blushed at the awkwardly silent moment and pushed himself off the floor.

"What is that?" Harry questioned, "Hope it's important. I sacrificed my ass for it."

Draco's face suddenly turned a shade of pink and he turned from Harry making his way to the counter. His hand came down on the bell and the clang was a merciless sound that echoed through Harry's skull. Harry considered the words he spoke and decided that maybe he shouldn't have mentioned his arse. He shrugged and gathered up the bags, heading over to Draco, who was just finishing up paying for the small box. He turned to Harry and frowned deeply. Harry frowned back at him which just made Draco sneer. Harry's frown deepened as Draco whirled about and left the shop. He followed closely behind, trying to figure out what brought on the old Slytherin Draco. He found that he dearly missed the sweet and kind Draco.

* * *

**Little note: Heya dearies! Hope you guys liked this one. Thanks to StubbornBlonde and Midnight-yada-whatever-fuck for reviewing. I'm hungry and grouchy, so I better get some goddamn reviews! Thanks for all the support! Love you all!**


	6. Chapter 6

Harry struggled to keep up for the rest of the day. Draco flinted about going from one shop to the next gathering up all sorts of random things and mostly ignoring Harry. He only spoke when he was telling Harry what to do. His remarks came out snappy and frustrated and Harry felt awful by the time the evening hit. He was starting to feel like he'd done something horrible and he was incredible sorry for it, even though he had no idea what it was he had to be sorry for. He wasn't really experienced in dealing with figuring out why people were angry and it seemed that he wasn't going to learn how to tell any time soon.

Draco suddenly halted in front of him and whipped out his wand. It took Harry several moments to realize that they were back at the entrance and Draco was getting them back inside The Leaky Cauldron. The archway opened and they went in, silently. If there was one thing Harry was used to, it was silence. However, in this situation he wished for any sort of noise to ease the awkward silence surrounding him and Draco. He was awarded the noise in the form of the den inside the pub.

"Stay close," Draco muttered over his shoulder.

Harry took this opportunity to get as close to Draco as possible. He took ahold of the edge of Draco's sleeve with one of his fingers. Draco scowled at him briefly, but turned his attention back to navigating through the sea of bodies. Harry felt his stomach do somersaults and backflips as they weaved through the tables. Draco led him to the table they had occupied for breakfast and Harry was relieved that he was close to Draco and no one else. He set the bags underneath the table, in hopes that no one would trip on them or steal them. His stomach growled loudly as he slid into his chair. Draco looked at him, his mouth quirking slightly.

"Hungry?" Draco questioned in an amused voice.

"Yes, I haven't eaten today," Harry answered, "What is for dinner?"

"What do you want?" Draco asked, "You can have pretty much anything."

"Really?" Harry questioned hesitantly, "I've never really got to choose what I eat…can I have a roast beef sandwich?"

"Of course," Draco answered, "You want something with it?"

"Um. Mashed potatoes? Please?" Harry answered.

"You can ask for anything you want Harry," Draco said softly.

Harry looked over at Draco to see a small genuine smile on his face. His face was soft and filled with kindness. Harry smiled at him, his heart beating faster for some reason. Draco's hand reached forward and Harry's breath caught in his throat. _What's he doing?! What's he doing?! What's he doing?! _Harry's thoughts were panicked and his heart thumped wildly in his chest. Draco's fingers brushed Harry's bangs down, flattening them over Harry's forehead.

"Your scar is showing," Draco whispered, "I don't think you want anyone messing with you right now."

"Th-th-th-thanks," Harry sputtered out, blushing crimson.

"Um, I have to go," Draco stood abruptly, "The bathroom. I have to go there."

Harry watched in confusion as Draco practically sprinted from the table. _What just happened? _He wondered, breathless and his heart trying to calm down.

* * *

Draco gasped as he splashed the freezing water on his burning face. _Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Why? I should have just said something snarky and rude, but no I had to touch his hair. Oh my lord. That adorable way he blushes…ugh. I'm in trouble. I'm in big, big trouble. _Draco stared into the small mirror over the sink as his thoughts ran around in his head like disobedient children.

"I'll just have to quit being gay," he said to his reflection, "That's all it is. I can't stay in the same room as such an attractive, sweet and innocent man while being gay. So I just have to stop. That's all there is to it. I like women. They're…nice. They have…curves and sometimes smell nice. Those lumps on their chest aren't so bad. They're... soft."

Draco's nose wrinkled. He felt like gagging at the thought of touching a woman's breasts.

"Always be yourself!" his reflection sang at him.

"Shut up," Draco hissed, "Stupid enchanted mirror."

"That's not very nice," his reflection frowned at him, "I'm just trying to be nice."

"And what would you know about being yourself?" Draco demanded, "You take on the image of whoever stands before you. So what would you know?"

"I know that many people stand before me wishing to change," the reflection said, "But they rarely ever think that being themselves is the best thing they can be. Do you think that your attractive male friend will like it if he finds you groping women? No. I bet he wants to see you as the person you are. You should open up and be that person. Be you."

Draco frowned at the mirror, who only smiled back at him.

"God, you're right," Draco grumbled, "Why are you right?"

"I was enchanted with the personality of an understanding and wise friend," the mirror answered.

"Can I take you?" Draco asked, "I've never had an understanding and wise friend before."

"Sorry, I don't know," the mirror answered, "You'd have to ask Tom. But I don't think he'd let you. Anyway, I think you need to go back and talk to your friend now."

"I probably should," Draco admitted, "He's probably freaked out right now. He doesn't like crowds. He was practically glued to me when we were walking through the pub. It was kind of adorable, actually. And he thinks I'm angry with him…"

"Why does he think that?" the mirror questioned.

"I got mad in this potion making shop," Draco explained, "He said something about sacrificing his arse and I sort of had some bad images run through my head. I got really embarrassed and mad at myself so I just acted like I was mad at him."

"You definitely need to go tell him you're not," the mirror answered, "He's probably freaking out right now thinking you hate him or something."

"You're probably right," Draco sighed, "I better go be a reassuring friend."

"Good luck!" the mirror exclaimed, "Be sure to visit me and tell me how it went!"

"Will do," Draco muttered.

He stood up tall and straightened out his robes. He smoothed his hair back into place and nodded at his reflection, who nodded back. He smiled slightly and turned to leave. _Just tell him he's too damn attractive for his own good, _he encouraged himself as he unlocked the door and stepped out. _That will definitely work…_he rolled his eyes at himself and headed back to the table to confront Harry. His heart beat wildly as if to tell him he was making a mistake. He silently told it to shut it as he reached the table and Harry looked up at him with concerned green eyes.

* * *

**Little note: Hi there my dears! ^_^ I feel much better than I did last night. I hope you like this chapter! Thanks to Stubborn, Midnight, and Dacy for the reviews! Thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favorites! Love you all!**


	7. Chapter 7

Draco stood by the table, his mouth opening and closing comically. Harry raised an eyebrow at him. Finally, Draco sighed loudly and sat back down. Harry's eyebrows came together as the pale boy's face blushed a rose color.

"Are you ok?" Harry questioned, reaching out a hand and laying it on Draco's arm.

"Yes, I'm fine," Draco assured him, "I just wanted to say that I'm not mad at you. I know I've been acting like a jerk and I'm sorry."

"It's ok," Harry smiled at him, squeezing his arm, "I know I can be a pain in the ass sometimes. Sorry for being so, but sometimes I don't realize I am."

Harry retracted his hand and turned away. He twisted his hands together, nervously. A waitress appeared in front of them and looked to Draco expectantly. Draco smiled at her and ordered a steak and vegetables. Then he relayed what Harry had asked for and she nodded eagerly.

"Anythin' else for ya?" she questioned in a heavy Cockney accent, "We gots a nice new red wine ina back."

"Two medium sized glasses please," Draco answered.

The waitress left Harry looking stunned. Draco turned to him and gave him a questioning look.

"Wine?" Harry questioned, "We're allowed to drink wine?"

"Yes, of course," Draco answered, "Don't worry too much about it."

"Ok, if you say so," Harry shrugged.

Thankfully, the awkward silence that ensued only lasted a few moments, as the waitress quickly returned. She set two full glasses of a deep red liquid down and then disappeared again, only to reappear a few seconds later. She set down their plates and a white pillar candle that she lit with her wand.

"Seta mood, yeh?" she said, winking.

Harry blushed at the implication and tried to sputter out a denial, as she turned and walked away. Harry felt embarrassed and awkward, so he seized the glass of wine and drank deeply from it. It didn't taste quite the way he'd expected. He honestly thought it'd be sweeter than it was. He must have thought it was pretty good though, because he polished off the glass in less than three minutes. He licked stray drops from the corner of his mouth.

"Um. Do you want something stronger?" Draco questioned, "You downed that pretty fast."

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed, "I want something stronger."

"Um, ok," Draco turned away and scanned the pub.

Harry watched as he got up and walked toward the bar. Harry liked the way his ass swayed back and forth in that confident swagger of his. He found himself wishing the boy would wear jeans so he could actually see his ass. He shook his head and started eating his sandwich. Draco returned with a tall glass of some sort of golden liquid. He set it next to Harry and started eating his own food. Harry finished the sandwich before gingerly taking the new sweating glass into his hand. He pressed it to his lips and drank a mouthful. He was shocked by the sweet yet harsh taste of the drink. He was even more surprised by how much he liked it. He gulped down some more, licking his now sweet tasting lips.

"This is really good!" he said half in surprise and half in delight.

"Glad you like it," Draco answered, "It suits you."

Harry wasn't sure what he meant by that, but didn't bother asking. Instead he drank down some more of the golden liquid. He grinned as he set it down and decided to eat his mashed potatoes. About two or three bites into the potatoes he felt a buzz go up his spine. It made him shiver and grin as he ate some more. He then grabbed the glass and drank down some more of it. As he reached the bottom of the glass he couldn't help but feel disappointed. He frowned at the glass and turned to Draco, a pout on his lips. Draco sighed at him and stopped a passing waitress.

"Can you refill this please?" he asked the woman.

She took the glass and disappeared through the crowd. When she returned, Harry happily took the glass and drank some more of it. The buzzing spread down his arms and to his hands. He giggled slightly, as he continued eating his mashed potatoes. The glass somehow became empty once more and he gripped Draco's shoulder.

"Draco, it's gone," he whined, "The glass emptied itself. Can I have more?"

"Oh, Harry, you silly man," Draco muttered at him, "One more. That's it. You're already buzzed out of your skull."

Harry grinned at him and leaned his head forward in and awkward one handed hug that mostly consisted of Harry squeezing Draco's shoulder and laying his forehead briefly on his arm before pulling away. Harry's mind went rather fuzzy as he started drinking the third glass of the strange golden liquid. He giggled at the buzzing feeling in his skin. He opened his mouth to tell Draco about it, but his tongue seemed swollen, which just made him giggle even more. The waitress came back by and picked up all their empty glasses and plates. Harry frowned and wobbled toward Draco, gripping the other boy's arm.

"Shtop lookin at her ash," Harry slurred into Draco's ear.

"I'm not looking, Harry," Draco assured him, "I'm gay. I don't even like women's asses."

Harry giggled into Draco's ear, unaware that he'd somewhere along the line started leaning on him.

"I'm gay too," Harry murmured, giggling, "I like your ash. Ish nice."

He watched in delight as Draco's face tinged red. Harry giggled again and poked Draco's red cheek.

"I love when you do that," he whispered, shakily, "Blush, I mean. Ish cwute."

"You're drunk, Harry," Draco hissed in a whisper.

"Yesh, yesh I am," Harry admitted, laying his head on Draco's shoulder.

Harry's vision was blurry around the edges and he wiggled his fingers in front of his eyes. He giggled and dropped his hand. It happened to land on Draco's thigh, the owner of which jumped like he'd been electrocuted. Harry giggled some more and traced patterns with his finger on Draco's leg. Draco squirmed under his touch which only made Harry giggle harder. Then he had to giggle at how much he was giggling. Draco shifted and wrapped an arm around him.

"Let's go before you start dancing on tables and such," he muttered.

Harry outright laughed at that, not being helpful as Draco awkwardly slid him out from behind the table. Harry stumbled and fell his head landing on Draco's leg. He nuzzled into the soft fabric, grinning widely. Draco swooped down and slipped his arms under Harry's. He hoisted him up and steadied him. Harry's head drooped and lay on Draco's shoulder, his face in Draco's neck. His whole body buzzed with alcohol and the closeness of Draco. He slackened slightly, his knees not wanting to hold him up. He moaned softly as Draco's hand gripped his hip to steady him, his thin fingers digging into his ass. Draco froze and Harry's eyes opened, though he hadn't even realized they'd been closed. His eyes opened straight to the pale skin right below Draco's sharp jaw. Harry thought it looked rather sweet and his tongue flicked out to taste it. Draco shuddered as Harry decided it _was _indeed sweet.

* * *

**Little note: Muahhahahahahaha! Drunk Harry is best Harry. No. Not really. I hate drunk Harry, he's so forward. :P SO ANYWAY. Hope you guy's liked this chapter. Can anyone guess the golden drink? Thanks again to Midnight, Stubborn, and Dacy! You guys rock! Love ya all!**


	8. Chapter 8

Draco's shudder ran through his entire body and straight to his groin. He resisted the urge to grind against Harry and pushed the boy off of him. Harry made a whining noise, but Draco ignored it. _Don't think don't think don't think! _He shouted at himself. He looked away from Harry and towards the way he needed to lead the intoxicated man. He moved around Harry and gripped his arm near his elbow.

"Come on," Draco muttered, "This way."

Harry stumbled several times as he followed, giggling and wiggling his fingers at strangers. Many people laughed at the speckle Harry was making of himself. Draco prayed that the raven bangs would stay over Harry's scar. The last thing they needed was for anyone to find out that this giggling buffoon was actually Harry "The Boy Who Lived" Potter. They finally made it to the stairs and managed to crawl up them, with Harry face-planting only once. They made it to the room with little incident and Draco even managed to push Harry inside before the boy fell on his ass.

"Dracoooo!" Harry whined, "You pushed me!"

"I did not!" Draco snapped, "You fell on your own."

"Liar!" Harry pouted.

Draco rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him. He stepped over to Harry and reached a hand out to help him up. The boy was sprawled across the floor, pouting, but he did reach up and take Draco's offered hand. Draco started to yank the boy to his feet when suddenly he was yanked instead. It was such a surprise that he tumbled and fell on Harry before he managed to realize what had happened. He pushed himself off the other boy and scowled at him, very uncomfortable with being on top of and in between the legs of an intoxicated Harry Potter.

"Not funny, Harry," Draco hissed.

Harry grinned wickedly at him.

"Right where I want you," he said in a low voice.

Draco felt heat and blood pool in a place that ensued panic. He scrambled away and sent a hasty stunning spell at Harry, who crumpled easily.

"Holy shit!" Draco muttered.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair. He took a few deep, calming breaths trying to force his heart to quit thumping so ruthlessly against his chest. Once he'd calmed his shot out nerves and finally got his breath again, he looked at the unconscious raven haired wonder lying on the hard floor in front of him. He sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. He crawled forward and untied Harry's shoes, sliding them off and placing them near the bed. Then he stood and pulled back the covers on the bed on Harry's side. He then levitated Harry up and onto the bed. After covering the boy up he took his glasses off and placed them delicately on the nightstand. He leaned forward and touched his forehead to Harry's.

"Sorry, I'm really sorry," Draco whispered, "But I couldn't let you do that. You know what would happen, don't you? I can tell you. This is what would've happened: You're drunk, your decision making process shot to death. I drag you up to our room. You kiss me. You touch me. And I reciprocate with passion like wildfire. We share a wonderful night of sex. The next morning you wake up, confused and scared. Then you leave and you never speak to me again. I can't have that, Harry. Because as much as I would love to have crazy, wild, drunken sex with you, I want your friendship more."

Draco shocked himself at his own words, but he knew it was true. It was the truest thing in the world to him. Ever since first year, when Harry snidely rejected him, he'd been obsessed with proving that he really was better than everyone else. After a while, it was evident that Harry didn't find Slytherin slyness and witty retorts very impressive. Then a miracle was dealt to Draco. Harry showed up at The Leaky Cauldron, clueless, hurt and with nowhere to stay. Now Draco knew he had to seize this opportunity to show Harry that he could be just as good a friend as Weasley or Granger. It wasn't going to let something as silly as attraction get in the way of that.

Draco let his lips brush against Harry's forehead before he retreated. He backed away slowly, his eyes on Harry's sleeping face until he reached the door. He opened it and ducked out of the room, closing it quietly as he stepped into the hallway. He hurried down to the pub to retrieve the bags of things they'd bought that day. Harry had tucked them under the table like a smart person and Draco had to crouch to retrieve them.

"Mr. Malfoy," a familiar voice called to him from above the table.

Draco bumped his head and hissed an "ow!" before pulling back out to see Tom staring down at him.

"Yes?" Draco asked from the floor.

"The mirror in the bathroom is asking for you," Tom answered, "I was wondering if you'd like to take it. Since it now seems to think that you two are friends. I don't see a reason for you not to. I've been meaning to replace it anyway."

"Really?" Draco questioned in wonder.

"Yeah," Tom replied, "Here it is."

Tom produced a rectangular package that was obviously the mirror. Draco couldn't help but grin as he took the mirror from Tom.

"Thank you," Draco said, "This means a lot to me."

"It actually wouldn't shut up," Tom answered, "So you're really doing me a favor."

"Oh, I see," Draco looked down to the mirror.

"Yeah," Tom shrugged, "I hope you figure it out with your "attractive male friend" as the mirror put it."

"Thanks," Draco said dryly as the man walked away.

He reached back under the table and gathered up the bags. He struggled a moment before standing and making his way through the pub once again. He made his way to the room and leaned the mirror against the wall next to the dresser. He then stowed the bags on the other side of the dresser. He yawned widely and decided it was time for him to go to bed as well. He debated for a moment and finally decided he could crawl in next to Harry without it being weird (well, not _completely_ weird anyway). He changed quickly into his silk pajamas and crawled into the bed, making sure to keep a good distance between himself and the Boy Wonder. His head was light and his eyelids heavy. It took a very short amount of time for him to drift off to sleep.

* * *

**Little note: There you go. Two updates right after each other! By the way the wonderful golden drink is *drumroll please* an Innocent! Ooooo! It's part Vodka and part Apple Brandy and all Harry. SO there you go. Thanks again to my 3 favorite people (you know who you are! ;) LOVE YOU ALL!**


	9. Chapter 9

As Harry regained consciousness he was painfully aware of a pounding in his head. His stomach flipped and he ran to the bathroom where he emptied his stomach into the toilet. He groaned loudly, laying his head on the seat, briefly hoping it was clean. He finally regained his strength and shakily stood up. He flushed the toilet before he peed in it and flushed it again. He went to the sink and washed his hands, splashing his face with some cold water.

"Check the medicine cabinet!" Draco shouted from the other room.

Harry groaned, wishing he'd lower his voice. He swung open the mirror and looked inside it, having to put his face extremely close to the bottles that lined the inside of the cabinet. He found a potion that said "Hangover cure" and hastily grabbed it. He followed the instructions, taking a small swig of the foul liquid and placed it back in the cabinet. He gagged slightly as the liquid burned down his throat and a buzzing filled his body. His headache and rolling stomach ebbed away and he took several deep breaths.

"That's vile," he gasped.

He finally steadied out and walked out to put his glasses on. He briefly rubbed his eyes, before slipping on the old glasses that really needed to be retired. He looked around, trying to find Draco and saw him curled up in one of the armchairs. Harry gasped loudly and felt his knees go weak. Draco was wearing the wonderful striped shirt and a loose pair of sweats. His bare feet were curled together and a book rested on his knees in front of him. He was half leaning against the back of the chair, his eyes glued to the book in front of him. His bangs had fallen almost into his eyes, but he didn't seem to care.

Harry felt the beginnings of a serious round of hyperventilation. Draco looked absolutely angelic and Harry thought he might just melt into a puddle of adoration right there. He felt as a moth to a flame as his feet carried him towards the angelic vision in front of him. Then suddenly he remembered the golden drink. He halted, sputtering for several moments. His mind raced, trying to remember what had happened after drinking the liquefied sin.

He lowered himself to the floor, wincing as his ass bumped onto the floor. _Ow! Why does my ass hurt? _His eyes snapped back up to Draco who hadn't yet noticed Harry's dilemma. Harry shot off the floor like it was on fire. Sheer panic ran rampant through him. His heart thumped hard and fast against his chest. His mouth gaped wide open. A thrill went through him, one of shock, fear, and excitement.

"We, we, we, we," Harry sputtered out unable to quite bring himself to say anything more.

Draco looked up from his book.

"What's wrong?" Draco questioned.

"We, uh, we, uh," Harry gulped and tried to look away.

Draco looked at him with concern in his face. Harry took several ragged breaths. An image of Draco hovering above him flashed in his mind, hair hanging unruly from his face and a wild look in his eyes. Harry sucked in a breath, heat pooling in his groin. He felt a grin spread across his face. Then he smacked his forehead. _Should I be happy about this?_

"Harry?" Draco's voice called out, "Do you remember what happened?"

"N-n-not r-r-really," Harry stuttered out.

"You were drunk," Draco supplied, closing his book, "I dragged you up here and had to stun you. Then I levitated you into bed. That's pretty much it."

Draco's left leg slipped down and his foot touched the floor. Harry found himself following the movement. He licked his lips nervously.

"My, uh," Harry cleared his throat, "My ass, uh, hurts…."

He blushed and turned away, unable to make eye contact.

"Oh, yes," Draco answered, "You kept falling down. I imagine it's quite bruised."

"Oh, right," Harry blushed harder.

There was an awkwardly long pause as Harry looked everywhere but at Draco.

"Um, I'm sorry about this shirt," Draco said, breaking the silence, "I was a bit cold. And well, I really like this shirt. I'll take it off later. Or uh, now if you really want. I dunno, it's a nice shirt."

Harry's head whipped around to look at Draco.

"Keep it!" Harry nearly shouted, "You look great in it!"

Harry was delighted by the wonderful pink color that dusted across Draco's face. Harry found himself thinking that Draco's face resembled cherry blossoms. He smiled widely at the stray thought, automatically latching onto it. _Yes, cherry blossoms. How did I not see that before?_ He made his way over to the other armchair and curled into it, laying his head on the arm. Draco raised an eyebrow at him and then looked away out a window.

"What are you reading?" Harry questioned.

"Shakespeare," Draco answered.

"You know Shakespeare?" Harry asked in wonder.

"Yes, who doesn't?"

"I just thought it was more of a muggle thing."

"Shakespeare was a wizard."

"Really?"

"Yes. He was quite popular in his day, so he obviously had to keep his being a wizard quite."

"Wow. That's amazing."

"Is it?"

"Of course it is. Anyway, he wrote a lot of great things."

"I most enjoy his sonnets."

"What?! Really?"

"You're very disbelieving of me, aren't you?"

Draco had turned to look at Harry with a slight bit of hurt in his eyes. Harry hurriedly pushed up from his half laying position.

"It's not that I don't believe you!" Harry answered hastily, "It's just that I'm surprised. His sonnets are rather romantic. I didn't realize you were much of a romantic person is all."

Draco looked relieved at Harry's words, which made Harry relax. He shrugged and looked down at the book in his hands.

"I guess the thought of someone loving someone else so much just greatly appeals to me," Draco said softly.

"Which one is your favorite?" Harry questioned curiously.

Draco's face filled with a soft light and a smile played at his lips.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved."

Draco's voice was filled with passion as he ended the recitation. Harry was once again struck by how angelic the Slytherin looked. He found it interesting that Draco chose that sonnet as his favorite of all of the hundred and fifty there were.

"Why that one?" Harry questioned in a whisper.

"Because it gives me hope," Draco answered quietly, "Hope that there is that strong force that could last out anything. Though I know I'll never share it with anyone, it gives me hope that the world can be a good place if it's filled with such a resilient force. Love is the one thing that I truly believe can outlast any test, as long as the persons involved are willing to give into it. When I'm most afraid, I remind myself that such a force does really exist."

Draco's silver eyes locked with Harry's and Harry felt the urge to go forward and wrap his arms around the blonde. He wanted to squeeze him tightly and tell him he could share it with him. That he would willingly share his love with Draco. But he resisted, hesitant and unsure of himself. He'd never allowed himself to actually believe that he could genuinely share his love with anyone. And here he was faced with a sweet-yet-sour, beautiful-yet-harsh, wonderful-yet-reclusive angelically blonde Slytherin that he felt himself falling hard for. He was most afraid that once he fell, he'd never get back up again.

* * *

**Little note: I hope you guys liked it. Lots of confusion and mixed feelings. Hope you guys can get the feelings I'm trying to get across. Thanks again to Dacy, Midnight, and Stubborn! Also to Josh. Though you never leave reviews. :P Thanks for all reviews, follows, and favorites. Love you all!**


	10. Chapter 10

Draco found himself watching the conflict in Harry's face. The boy seemed to be trying to decide between two choices with either one causing a great consequence. Draco knew the look well. He'd seen it on his father and mother's faces often. _I wonder what he's so conflicted about….Look at the way he mouths his problems, as though no one can see him. I wonder if he knows that he's moving his lips…I shouldn't have let him drink so much last night. I bet he's upset about it._ His thoughts swirled around the guilt and he sighed heavily.

He opened up the book again and reburied his face in it. A few moments later, he saw Harry get up out of the corner of his eye. The green-eyed lion went to the bags lying on the ground and shifted through them. Draco's eyes rose up just slightly over the book as he watched Harry bent over the bags, searching for clothes to wear. Draco allowed himself to look, because knew he'd never be allowed to touch.

_Then again, he was rather eager last night, _the part of Draco's mind that was truly Slytherin spoke up. _No! Stop it! That's like date rape or something! _Draco spat angrily at the Slytherin part of him, _if I did that I would be just as bad as he think I am! _Draco felt like curling into a ball and crying, but instead decided to rebury himself in Shakespeare's words. He silently read the next sonnet on the page.

_"Sonnet 61:_

_Is it thy will, thy image should keep open_

_My heavy eyelids to the weary night?_

_Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,_

_While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?_

_Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee_

_So far from home into my deeds to pry,_

_To find out shames and idle hours in me,_

_The scope and tenor of thy jealousy?_

_O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great:_

_It is my love that keeps mine eye awake:_

_Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,_

_To play the watchman ever for thy sake:_

_ For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,_

_ From me far off, with others all too near."_

_ Funny. Is this some movie or something? I must be the character who conveniently reads something that applies to his situation. Ha ha. Very funny Shakespeare. You knew I would exist, didn't you? Fucker. _Draco thought miserably as he finished the sonnet. He sighed loudly, but decided to read the notes they put at the end to make things easier to understand (not that he needed to, mind you).

_"Here, Shakespeare has a man deeply in love, narrating the poem to his lover. At first the poet accuses his beloved of jealously spying on him, saying that she (or he, who really knows?) is keeping him awake. Though later he admits, that it's his own jealous that keeps him awake. He says: "O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great: It is my love that keeps mine eye awake…" If written in modern text the word "my" would be italicized, because he is admitting that it isn't her love, but his love that keeps him awake. He says he wishes for her to be near, instead of others that are near. Accentually, this sonnet's narrator admits that he is jealous and wishes for his beloved and also that she does not love him as he loves her."_

Draco felt even more like crying than he did before. He curled his legs up in the chair, laying his head on his knees. He wrapped his arms around his legs as he often had when he was very young. The book was squished between his chest and his legs, but he didn't care. He was shuddering all over in his effort to not cry like a girl.

"I finally meet someone who seems to give a shit," he shakily said into his knees, "And it has to be like this. He's so delicate. I'd break him if I poked his side. And I know he's just right. He's just perfect! He's so caring and sweet. He practically immediately dropped the hating and fighting. Oh my god! Uuuuggghhh!"

Draco let out a strangled cry and hot, thick tears began pouring down his face. He knew it should be so simple. He should be able to like Harry and go for him, but he was so afraid that he'd lose the only person that had ever been genuinely kind to him. He was shuddering and crying and could barely breathe. Suddenly a hand touched his arm and he jumped in shock, his head snapping up. Harry's concerned eyes were on him, water dripping from his hair.

"Why are you crying?" he asked softly.

"Because of this!" Draco shouted, seizing Harry's shirt and yanking him forward.

He crashed his mouth hungrily into Harry's. He nipped at Harry's bottom lip, growling in a predatory way as he pulled away. Harry's face was filled with shock and wonder.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, Harry Potter," Draco answered the unasked question in Harry's eyes, "And you're just going to have to deal with it."

A grin broke out across Harry's face.

"Thank god," he whispered, "Now do that again."

Draco hardly had time to grin before Harry attacked his face, eager to encourage round two. Draco responded eagerly and it wasn't too long before they were gasping for breath, though refusing to pull away for longer than a few seconds. Finally, Draco reluctantly pushed Harry away, gasping and sputtering.

"We'll die if we don't breathe," He gasped out, "So eager for a virgin."

Harry blushed, turning his head away from Draco. He started to back away, but Draco grabbed him and kissed him again.

"It's cute!" Draco whispered, "I love it. And I'd not have you any other way."

The blush that had temporarily left Harry's face returned full force.

"O-o-oh," he sputtered, "Y-y-you luh-like va-virgins?"

Harry's face got impossibly redder as he uttered the last word.

"No, you silly man," Draco whispered, putting his forehead against Harry's, "I like _you._"

Harry's eyes cast down bashfully.

"Then you can have me," Harry whispered so quietly, Draco was unsure he heard it.

"Do you mean…?" Draco let the question hang unfinished in the air.

Harry's eyes lifted to meet Draco's. They were filled with fire and passion.

"Yes," Harry answered, "But not now."

Draco felt disappointment and relief fill him like a balloon.

"Harry, I don't want to pressure you," Draco said softly, "You could-"

Harry put a finger to Draco's lips.

"Let's not talk about it now," Harry murmured, "I just want to sit here for a while. Wait for the reality to hit me. Then I'll probably go into shock. You'll have to revive me by throwing cold water on my face. Then I'll never believe you saying that this actually happened."

"Then you like me?"

"Duh."

Draco visibly relaxed. _Oh thank goodness. _He smirked thinking, _well, obviously he likes me I'm handsome, intelligent and rich. What's not to like?_

"Really proud of yourself, aren't you?" Harry's voice pulled him from his mental pat on the back.

"Quite," he answered, before pulling Harry into him again.

They kissed forever, their lives meaning nothing. It was only each other that they were concerned with. Only each other and the other's damn kissable lips. Each other and the other's wonderful hair. Each other and the other's amazing smoldering eyes. The world could have exploded into dust and neither would care. Sure they'd realize to some degree, but as the rubble fell around them they'd only cast a protective charm and continue the senseless snogging.

They rivaled Romeo and Juliet, they rivaled Rose and Jack, they rivaled Fred and Wilma (_why were all these couples heteros?). _The sun envied their brightness as it gazed lazily at them through the curtains. And somewhere Shakespeare was looking down, smirking at them. Draco briefly thought of all this before returning to all Harry thoughts. _And to think this was all because he was in a pinch, _he thought in amusement.

* * *

**Little note: That's the end, my dearies. Midnight, Stubborn, and Dacy, I'd love to see you in the sequel! It's going to be called "With a Pinch". Thank you all so much for your support and love! I couldn't have done it without you guys, especially you three that I mentioned! Love you all!**


End file.
